Callandor
by Sonne al'Vere
Summary: An Imzadi story- Riker's a captain, Troi's the Counselor, and new characters are introduced.
1. Reflections of Earth in the Window

Chapter One: Reflections of Earth in the Window  
  
Counselor Troi dutifully completed her inspection rounds and entered her new quarters. The space was considerably smaller than the Galaxy class Enterprises on which she'd previously served.  
  
Deanna Troi glanced out of the port view at Earth. Her six-month stay there, in that bit of Alaskan wilderness just now rotating away had been delightful. Her relationship with Will Riker had been strong, but as always, they remained true and constant friends. It almost felt like home, she thought, but that summoned sentimental thoughts of Earth, Betazed, and the Enterprise that much more.  
  
"You guide me," Will had expressed to her as he finished placing the last of her belongings by the stone hearth, "I wouldn't think of doing this without you." It was not until then, that very earthbound, final moment, that he officially requested her presence as Counselor of the U.S.S. Callandor. She had sensed the question swelling within him not just empathically, but with her human intuition as well.  
  
She analyzed his stature when he had asked—he'd symbolically leaned on his encased trombone, and was alarmed when it had wobbled. This was uncharacteristic of her Will; everything he'd said, particularly romantic and professional words, were produced with the confident air that had contributed to Riker's promotion and personality.  
  
Deanna, consciously remaining dignified, had kissed Riker simply as she often did, but said "yes" with as much inflection as if she were responding to a marriage proposal.  
  
At the sound of her door chime, Deanna turned away from the blue green world of memories. With her voice pleasantly affected by her warm thoughts, she smiled and spoke: "Please come in." 


	2. Genuine Smiles

Chapter 2: Genuine Smiles  
  
Captain William T. Riker entered confidently, the way in which he strode down the corridors of his new ship. His smile, however, was curious, romantic, and genuine. She felt these feelings radiating from him.  
  
"Counselor," he addressed her in a mock-authoritative, bold voice, "report."  
  
Troi handed the data PADD to her captain with her typical calm and grace.  
  
"There is one malfunctioning food replicator on Deck 8, but other than that, all is well."  
  
He took her hand.  
  
"Ready for our first senior staff conference?"  
  
Troi nodded, and Riker noted the way her hair fell upon her shoulders. She was beautiful, and he was happier, knowing that his Imzadi, not only observed, but also knew intimately the extent of his affection. He released her hand, and they walked down the corridor, a pair. 


	3. Senior Staff

Chapter 3: Senior Staff  
  
Troi followed her captain into the staff room and took her respective seat. All others were present and punctual, and this pleased her. The counselor had a secret annoyance for crew members that were chronically late, as well as for supervisors that insisted their workers had this problem due to some type of mental disorder.  
  
"Good morning," announced Captain Riker, still standing. He pulled his shirt down and observed his senior staff attentively looking at him, each prepared. His eyes lastly fell on Deanna, who curved her lips slightly into an encouraging smile. While these lips might oftentimes encourage thoughts of her lips touching his, he this time inferred the correct message: You are the leader; you must command.  
  
"I'm your Captain, William T. Riker. I'm not much of a fan of silly ice breaker games, but this will all be a hell of a lot easier if we just go around the table and say a bit about ourselves." Riker then nodded to the woman to his left.  
  
The Klingon clearly contrasted with the mostly-human senior staff. In fact, she had initially been a bit surprised that she was the only full member of another race, but as always, she held her head high as her position commanded. The woman was in her early thirties, Troi decided, and seemed reliable and constant. She did not seem as compulsive as other Klingons she'd known, but equally proud and honorable. Unlike most Klingon women, this female appeared shorter… a mere 5 foot, 2 inches when standing.  
  
"I am First Officer Commander Ke'Rin Ma'Heth. I hail from Penzayron, a mining planet in the Galley System. I admire rules and those that abide by them."  
  
Riker nodded reluctantly, adding "Very good, Commander, thank you."  
  
Troi began contemplating the information Ma'Heth had revealed about herself, concluding that she desired to further research Penzayron in the near future. Ma'Heth's admiration seemed to puzzle the others in the room; she sensed that several were unsettled. Counselor Troi then looked toward the next crew member subject to Riker's introduction exercise.  
  
"Hello. I am Lieutenant Commander Thomas Ree," said a smiling human gentleman, "Grew up right near the Academy in San Francisco," he smiled proudly, "and I am serving as the Chief of Security."  
  
This surprised Deanna. She'd never known a Chief of Security to be so… friendly. The man's personality immediately appealed to her. He seemed trusting and trustworthy, interested in knowing people and in socializing, and he clearly enjoyed his work in Starfleet. She'd remembered reviewing Ree's profile a few hours ago and being impressed with his academic standings. Ree was apparently an accomplished musician and expert of the fine arts.  
  
"Hi," announced the next person at the table, timidly, "My name is Sonne, Sonne al'Vere. I come from York, England, and I'm the Assistant Counselor here." al'Vere smiled pleasantly, and it reminded Deanna of a calm fall season on Earth.  
  
"My hobbies include Interspecial Sociology, Music, and Holoauthoring."  
  
"Thank you, Lieutenant al'Vere," Riker approved, noticing that Troi noticed his prolonged eye contact with the young Lieutenant. It was then Deanna's turn to speak.  
  
"I'm Counselor Deanna Troi; I've spoken with a few of you before, and I look very forward to working with all of you, individually, and as a team."  
  
Wow, thought Riker, she's got to write my speeches. He found it hard to keep from winking at her.  
  
"I'm Doctor Bran Lawenhauer," announced the next man precisely, as if he'd been timing Troi's statement. "I am from New Berlin, Nova Scotia, Canada, right near Alaska, and I serve as the Chief Medical Officer."  
  
Immediately, Deanna did not like this man. His ease of command, his clear confidence, and his subversive demeanor troubled her. Deanna usually found herself attracted to confident people, such as Will Riker, but this man seemed not confident about his career in Starfleet or his romantic prospects, as Riker was. Stranger also was that he wore glasses and a thick beard. (The wearing of glasses, particularly amongst humans, was severely antiquated with the modern ease of optical precision correction). Troi immediately assumed that the beard was a disguise; that was her sense, and then shamed herself for such assumptions.  
  
"I am Lieutenant Starvek," nodded a young man of Middle-Eastern Earth descent. "This is my second post," he sounded rehearsed, but in a prepared kind of way, "and I am looking forward to working with all of you. I will be your Operations officer." Perhaps at the academy, Deanna thought, they tell students that captains do these things nowadays.  
  
"Karin Boelin," announced a confident young woman, "Tactical." Deanna immediately thought of Tasha Yar when she heard this voice, but then realized it belonged to a long-haired woman that shared the same English accent as her Assistant Counselor.  
  
"Thank you all for your prompt attendance," Riker started his conclusion of the meeting, "I'm sure you're all eager to return to the completion of your pre-departure duties. I most certainly am," he smiled cynically, but Deanna was the only one who returned it. Apparently the rest of the staff did not sense his humor.  
  
"Dismissed." 


	4. Sonne Before Rain

Chapter 4: Sonne Before Rain  
  
Lieutenant al'Vere felt much more confident after the meeting. She'd observed the captain's prominent (if albeit subtly crooked) sense of humor, and this put her more at ease. Despite her outwardly sunny disposition, Sonne al'Vere always kept a small circle of friends.  
  
Sonne thought back to her recent days at Starfleet Academy. She was not particularly social; many were drawn to her, but only on an acquainted level. She'd been close friends with those that immersed themselves in the same passions as she: psychology and understanding, music, writing, and the arts.  
  
Her matter-of-fact English demeanor had remained a private aspect of herself; only her classmates saw her apparent cynicism. At one point in her academic career, Sonne had thrown so much of herself into her studies and volunteer activities that if it weren't for John, she would have had little extraneous devotion or outlet for passion.  
  
John had encouraged her to hold her own recital, and she'd agreed, thus winning her a small yet diverse circle of friends. Now, still so close to Earth, she felt as if she were being forced to begin yet again. She doubted not any aspect of the love she and John shared, however it was simply difficult already, missing him.  
  
Sonne promised herself that she'd socialize after she'd finished unpacking. She'd rather be resourceful and confident; approach Counselor Troi and begin proving her worthiness of the Assistant Counselor title that she'd earned.  
  
Sonne pulled open her standard issue case, which sat upon her bed. Immediately, she grabbed a singularly important isolinear chip—that which contained her writing. There were more chips of programs she'd holoauthored, she placed these neatly in their transparent case on her desk.  
  
She dug through clothes and other objects, somewhat panicked until she found her precious picture.  
  
It was taken just one day before her wedding. In the picture, she and John had been standing, hands held before a San Franciscan sunset, backs toward the photographer. There were other pictures of the couple, of course, but this was her favorite: facing it all together, until the very end. This gave Sonne courage, and she proceeded to hang the impressionistic artwork that she'd favored so wholly. Two hours later, she remained in her uniform, her belongings unpacked, and prepared to socialize.  
  
As if in response, someone arrived at the door.  
  
"Come in."  
  
Counselor Troi, also in uniform, entered Lieutenant al'Vere's quarters.  
  
"Counselor Troi," Sonne greeted, somewhat relieved that it was a person with whom she was already acquainted.  
  
"Please," the senior counselor replied, "Call me Deanna."  
  
Sonne smiled in reply, bruising her lengthy brown hair behind her shoulders. She considered tying it back, as was regulation length, the way she'd worn it at the meeting. She invited Deanna to sit down at the never- used table, and Troi accepted.  
  
Troi laughed.  
  
"I grew tired of waiting for Captain Riker to do so, and I wanted to meet you first, anyway. We should make a time to discuss our goals."  
  
"Yes," Sonne responded enthusiastically, "I was thinking we might host a social activity; a concert perhaps."  
  
"What a lovely idea! The captain plays trombone. I'm sure he'd love to participate," Deanna encouraged.  
  
"It's so nice to have a new family again," remarked Sonne, squeezing her shoulders together in a smug fashion.  
  
"Perhaps we can go to Ten Forward and meet this new family. We can get a bite to eat," Troi suggested.  
  
Sonne relinquished her seat, happy to have found a kindred spirit so soon. 


	5. Planted Seeds

Chapter 5: Planted Seeds  
  
Captain Riker walked at a leisurely pace down deck 10 of the Callandor. He expected some crewmembers to walk up to them, perhaps introduce themselves, but many seemed timid or afraid of him. He began to wonder about his reputation. He thought himself witty and thoughtful, yet always professional. He knew he was always willing to give someone a chance—but did those that served beneath him know that? He knew what Deanna would say: "You're just being paranoid, Will." The thought of Deanna added an approachable smile to his face. This was the missing element in his previous unapproachability.  
  
"Good evening, Sir," greeted an overly friendly voice, "headed to Ten Forward?"  
  
It was Dr. Lawenhauer, the Chief Medical Officer. This was one officer that Riker had been curious about; he had not selected Lawenhauer. Unlike Riker's previous captain, he did not have the luxury of choosing his own senior staff. He recommended Troi highly, of course, and with her overachievements and impeccable service record, his request had come through immediately. Riker turned toward Lawenhauer and surveyed the man. He was tall, almost as tall as Riker himself, with crisp green eyes and an obsequious grin. Riker wondered if he simply imagined Lawenhauer's nose was really a shade darker than the rest of his pale skin, or if this man was just an obvious sycophant. Lawenhauer stared at his captain expectantly, as if he were a child asking for an extra cookie. Riker could not escape the escalating uncomfortability that this man was producing. He was, after all, heading to Ten Forward.  
  
"Yes, Doctor, I am heading that way. Would you care to join me?" Deanna would be proud of me, he thought, I am being sociable.  
  
Riker's mind was already on Deanna. Having completed three hours of final inspections, he was eager to see her. He was supposed to meet her at her quarters, but he'd been late. The computer had informed him that she was in Ten Forward already.  
  
"So you're from Alaska?" Lawenhauer asked eagerly.  
  
"Yes. What part of Canada are you from again?" Riker responded, quickening his pace.  
  
"Nova Scotia. Practically neighbors!" Replied the doctor.  
  
Riker glanced somewhat awkwardly at his new companion, and noticed that his ears were at a point. In his mind, he also pictured Alaska and Canada, and thought about how Nova Scotia was the furthest possible point from Alaska that one could be from without leaving the bounds of Canada.  
  
"Part Vulcan?" he questioned.  
  
"Yes, yes. My maternal grandmother was full Vulcan."  
  
Riker wondered sarcastically how the admirable Vulcan logic seemed to escape this man, and then cursed himself for prejudging a key member of his crew.  
  
Eventually, the pair arrived in Ten Forward, and Riker's eyes fell immediately on Counselor Troi. Troi stood with Lieutenant Sonne al'Vere; they seemed to get along well. Lawenhauer followed him smilingly, anxiously glaring at the two women they were approaching.  
  
"Captain, good to see you here," Troi began the conversation.  
  
Riker nodded to her. "Counselor," and then to her junior "al'Vere."  
  
"And you as well, Doctor," Troi smiled at Lawenhauer.  
  
Riker motioned to a table, and the four took seats.  
  
"I was just saying how wonderful it is to be neighbors with Captain Riker here!" Lawenhauer expressed emphatically.  
  
"Are you quarters situated near each other?" Sonne al'Vere's English accent posed a very direct question.  
  
"No, no, better… I'm from Canada, and he's from… get this… Alaska!" replied the attentive doctor.  
  
"I sense the camaraderie!" al'Vere tried not to let the cynicism of her comment appear too obvious, though she was certain that Riker and Troi's mutual glance meant that they understood her underlying meaning perfectly well. Troi then attempted to ease the conversation.  
  
"North America is so beautiful. I called it home for several months."  
  
"Don't you just love the mountains?" Lawenhauer seemed to explode with enthusiasm.  
  
Deanna was positive she hadn't mentioned to any member of the crew that she'd stayed with Will in Alaska; how Lawenhauer knew that she'd stayed near mountains was beyond her.  
  
"Yes, I got to see a few mountains. They're very majestic, but nothing like Balor IV."  
  
"I wouldn't imagine a pretty thing like you to be up there hiking on the mountains of Balor IV!" Lawenhauer expressed mock-alarm.  
  
"Counselor Troi is very fit and able," Riker cut in, "she's quite capable of climbing even Denali."  
  
"Denali?" Lawenhauer appeared confused.  
  
"Being such close neighbors," said the Lieutenant from England, "I'd think you know about Denali. I've never been near it, but I hear the sight is beautiful."  
  
"Oh, yes, that Denali." Lawenhauer tried the mock-idiot approach, but that also seemed to frustrate everyone. al'Vere was beginning to sense that there was a strong connection at the very least between Riker and Troi, the way he defended her so readily. She had not thought captains would do that. It was a good trait in him, she thought, and she was proud to have a captain that she knew would stick up for his crew.  
  
"Well, I must be going," Lawenhauer said, to the delight of the rest of his company.  
  
"So soon?" Riker put in.  
  
"Yes, yes, I must begin recalibrating biobed refractal retainment centers." He stood and rushed away quickly.  
  
Even the captain could not help but laugh.  
  
"Lieutenant… please do a bit of research and let me know if there exists such a thing as a biobed refractal retainment center. I will be much relieved if your results are positive."  
  
Sonne and Troi alike laughed in reply. Sonne did, she self-noted, intend to look that up. 


	6. Two Hours

Chapter Six: Two Hours  
  
Following their socialization in Ten Forward, Riker invited the counselor back to his quarters. Naturally, she agreed. They'd had little time to eat in Ten Forward due to the approachability of Lieutenant al'Vere, an officer whom they agreed had much potential, and seemed extremely kind. al'Vere was overwhelmed with introductions, and a few people that had known her or her husband John (who was apparently a prodigious teacher of music).  
  
Finally, the doors shut behind them.  
  
"I'm exhausted," Deanna declared, taking a seat at the table.  
  
"Don't worry about a thing," Will grinned, "tell me what you like, and I shall prepare it."  
  
"Mmm… how about chocolate milk and a small garden salad."  
  
"Nothing exotic?"  
  
"I'm too tired to be exotic."  
  
"Hmm… let's hope that doesn't present a problem." Riker waited until he turned around to grin at his own comment. He stood at the replicator: "One chocolate milk, 15.5 degrees Celcius, and a small garden salad."  
  
"Please specifiy what you desire in your garden salad." The computer was never pleased with Captain Riker.  
  
"Tomatoes, lettuce, onions, and carrots," he ordered.  
  
Deanna smiled; he knew her likes and dislikes so well.  
  
Riker delivered the food to her and then ordered a glass of synthehol and replicated Halibut. He joined her at the table, looking into her eyes.  
  
"You know, I think I forgot something."  
  
Before she could reply, he stood up and walked briskly to his bathroom area. Riker returned with a single white rose in a dark green vase. He placed it simply on the table.  
  
"For you."  
  
Deanna smiled, and extended her hand to touch his face lovingly.  
  
"Imzadi," she said in his mind, though she meant to say it aloud.  
  
For once, he did not seem uncomfortable with that word or relationship.  
  
The couple continued their dinner, discussing the day's events.  
  
"You know, I can't go ahead and fire Lawenhauer," he said, "but I must confess that I want to. He's dreadfully annoying."  
  
Troi became analytical.  
  
"He definitely has his fair share of walls, but no more than most people. It is extremely important to him that you like him and trust him."  
  
"If he performs effectively, I might do that, but his constant demand of attention is too much to deal with. al'Vere is promising, though."  
  
"Not too promising for you, I hope." Deanna jested, but the pain of the past was there.  
  
"You must trust me." He took her hand abruptly, and kissed it.  
  
"And when, captain, does our first assignment arrive?"  
  
"Two hours."  
  
They both grinned at the prospect of two hours alone. 


	7. Mission Saint

Chapter 7: Mission Saint  
  
Lieutenant Commander Ree smiled. For the first time, Callandor was being hailed. Admiral Jane Covey appeared on the screen, pleased at his smile. She'd always reminded Ree of a judge; stern but kindhearted, forgiving but wiseminded.  
  
"Mr. Ree," she addressed, "How goes mission preparations?"  
  
"Very well, Admiral," he replied.  
  
"I'd like to speak to Captain Riker," she commanded, "I have your first mission in my hand."  
  
Admiral Covey displayed a data PADD, a smile edging onto her face.  
  
"I'll have him here straight away, sir."  
  
______  
  
  
  
Riker, Troi, and al'Vere arrived on the Bridge, excited to hear the news.  
  
"Good morning, Admiral Covey," Riker greeted, standing expectantly and confidently before the screen, "Don't tell me you have bad news already."  
  
"Actually, Captain, you are going to prevent bad news from happening, I hope. Your ship's first mission probably isn't as exciting as you were probably hoping for. You are to take Federation Envoy T'Kel Kelak to Despar VI. There you will rendezvous with other Federation officials. Coordinates to follow."  
  
"Detail to follow, Admiral?"  
  
"Further details are classified, but Envoy Kelak will divulge information to you as needed and as is necessary. You are scheduled to depart in 4 hours. Envoy Kelak will be beamed aboard shortly."  
  
"Thank you, Admiral."  
  
"And you, Captain. Good luck, and have a safe trip."  
  
Riker smiled as the communication ended—he then caught a nervous look from the counselor. He turned to his second officer.  
  
"Final preparation status, Ree," he ordered, "and find a volunteer to escort the Envoy to her quarters when she arrives. I will be reviewing mission coordinates and other information in my Ready Room."  
  
The captain glanced at the crew available on the Bridge. Time to trust people, he thought. He went with his instincts.  
  
"Boelin, al'Vere, Troi…to my Ready Room please. You have the Bridge, Lieutenant Commander."  
  
The requested members followed him, and Ree took a seat in the captain's chair. 


	8. Dock Break, Heart Ache

Chapter 8: Dock Break, Heart Ache  
  
The tactical officer, Karin Boelin, could hardly believe that the captain already needed to discuss any type of security issue. She'd glanced at the view of Earth on the main view screen as she followed her superior officers to the ready room. Her Great Britain was not shown; it would be night there, now. She smiled to herself, hoping that Kevin was soundly asleep.  
  
She began to regret leaving him with Lisa. Kevin was an extremely bright child; eager to learn, and eager for any Starfleet experience. Had it been that she felt unsafe aboard the Callandor? Had she just wanted him to stay in one place, with one school, and one family? Lisa, Karin thought, was always better at mothering, anyway. She swore she never wanted children, but Karin knew that her sister would be the most able caretaker of her son. She knew, though, that the true reason for leaving Kevin on Earth had been because she did not want him to see her in action, or peril. She was afraid that having him there would affect her duties or her willingness to risk her own life, at all costs, for her crew. And now Riker called her into the ready room, so soon.  
  
Riker took a full breath and began, leaning over his desk but not sitting down. Boelin and Troi both stood as well.  
  
"The details of this mission are very sketchy," Riker announced, "and I don't like it. However, the mission appears to be diplomatic in nature. We are merely a vessel of the peace that the Envoy brings. Still, I will trust my intuition."  
  
"Sir, do you sense immediate danger?" Boelin asked. What a stupid question, she thought. Why would he have me in on this unless it was a question of safety?  
  
"Yes. While I cannot further question Admiral Covey or anyone at Starfleet about the details of this mission, there isn't a rule against being prepared, and I see no harm in it. Boelin, I want you to assemble a small team prepared to respond immediately."  
  
"Is there anything specific we should train for? Anything to be suspicious of?"  
  
"That's your job," he grinned, "be suspicious. Pick five people, no one else from the senior staff. Tell them what you need, but no one outside of your task force."  
  
"Yes, Sir."  
  
"Counselor," Riker turned to Troi, "you and Lieutenant al'Vere have a similar assignment. Be on the lookout for suspicious behavior once the Envoy arrives. And do not limit that suspicion to members outside of our crew. I'm not trying to create paranoia here, but a safe environment will ensure the success of this mission."  
  
"Yes, Captain," Troi replied.  
  
"Lieutenant," he addressed Karin Boelin, "I want the names of those officers on your team. You are dismissed."  
  
"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir." Too many 'sirs,' she reprimanded herself, exiting.  
  
Riker looked at his Imzadi.  
  
"I'd like for you to interact more with our rather odd doctor," he asked. "See what your instincts and abilities tell you. And… I would like to ask you to dinner."  
  
"I will gladly perform both duties," Deanna responded, her tone warm. "I will see you at dinner, and let you know how things go with Dr. Lawenhauer."  
  
"Good."  
  
She sensed his pride in her; not just a personal pride and affection, but a professional pride as well. Knowing how important duty was to Riker, Deanna felt honored.  
  
"Also, I'd like to mention that my assistant and I are planning a concert for our first social activity. It will take place just after we embark…" she raised her eyebrows, and he knew she was about to ask him a favor. "I would like for you to play trombone."  
  
"What?" Riker's eyes widened.  
  
"The crew must know you're not just an officer, but a kind person. A lot of the crew seem to find you… unapproachable."  
  
"That's ridiculous, I—"  
  
"You intimidate them, Will. Please perform at this concert."  
  
He nodded. "I'll work on it. Now you are dismissed," he tried holding back a smile as she walked back onto the Bridge. 


	9. Orders Are Orders

Lieutenant Starvek, the Operations officer, sat alone in Ten Forward. He was finishing a purple synthaholic drink that the bartender had suggested, and he contemplated his future. Starvek sighed as he touched the pips that indicated his rank on the collar of his uniform. Forty- three, he thought, and still a lieutenant. Starvek glanced at the mustard color of his uniform, and became depressed.  
  
Starvek had always measured his competence and effort as a Starfleet officer to those of his superiors. He felt that it had advanced his understanding of policies, duties, and exceptional behavior. However, he was still merely a lieutenant.  
  
This evening, Starvek compared himself to Captain Riker. It was clear that Riker held the interest of Counselor Troi, the most captivating woman on the ship. Furthermore, he'd been offered a captainhood so young, but had turned it down. He could have been the youngest captain in the history of Starfleet. Here I am, Starvek thought, still a lieutenant, with no beautiful woman like Deanna Troi. While I'm at a good post, I have no room for advancement.  
  
Across the room, he noticed the person that appeared to be a perfect officer. He couldn't remember her name… Boelin, was it? Boelin was already making fast friends with assistant Counselor Sonne al'Vere; Starvek sat alone.  
  
He stood, having finished his drink. Then a comm badge beeped—his comm badge.  
  
"Riker to Starvek," came the captain's voice.  
  
"Yes, yes sir?" was the immediate response. Starvek stood there aside the Ten Forward table, stunned.  
  
"Please escort Envoy Kelak to her quarters. She will arrive in Shuttle Bay 1 in fifteen minutes. Have her contact me as soon as she is situated and comfortable."  
  
"Yes, sir!" Starvek replied, too enthusiastically for his own liking.  
  
"Riker out."  
  
Confidence, he told himself, straightening out his uniform as he had often seen his captain do, now I have confidence. He strolled over to Boelin and al'Vere's table, but then became nervous. He made a sharp, militaristic turn toward the door.  
  
Both women remained, somewhat startled and confused. 


	10. Kelak's Arrival

Lieutenant Starvek forced a sense of duty and professionalism onto his face as he set to meet this important ambassador. He turned down the correct corridor-he had memorized the layout of Callandor as soon as his assignment had been given-and noticed someone falling in step aside him. Curvy figure, tan skin, all woman. A Klingon woman. Commander Ma'Heth nodded sharply.  
  
"Greetings, Lieutenant. I assume you have also been ordered to meet the Envoy?"  
  
"Correct, Sir," he replied quickly, making sure to keep his eyes on her face. Counselor Troi was nothing compared to this woman's figure. He made himself fix his eyes squarely on the ridges in the Klingon woman's head; their heights matched up this way as she was small for a Klingon female.  
  
Realizing Starvek's obvious oggling had become beyond obvious, the commander set her jaw in protest, clenching her teeth loudly enough to create a warning. It was hard to restrain her mind, desperately wanting to lunge into action-attack mode.or was it something else?  
  
"Escorting this woman is to be without surprise and scene. No commotion, no friendly chat, nothing. Is this understood, Lieutenant Starvek?"  
  
He walked a bit more briskly with a defiant hope that her shorter legs could not keep up, but somehow they did. Starvek began to hate the way she tossed her hair aside and gritted her teeth. He realized she hadn't done that in the initial Senior Staff conference. His ire grew as her voice repeated in his head, stressing the diminutive title of his rank.or was it something else?  
  
Ma'Heth considered revealing what she knew about Envoy T'Kel Kelak that Starvek did not. It would be a good test of an officer, she decided, of his integrity, to see if he could withstand the shock of this woman and her heritage. The officers approached the turbolift.  
  
Starvek allowed the door to open and foolishly stood by, allowing his commander to enter first. He exhaled, shaming himself for letting his mother teach him such manners. Ma'Heth smiled secretly, yet almost a growl, wondering how this earth man enticed and repulsed her simultaneously. He followed her in as she took command of the situation by calling the deck. As the computer responded, the pair shared an awkward turbolift moment as people often do. Starvek wondered why turbolifts were no longer manufactured with some cheesy yet occupying music to ease the short yet awkward journeys through the ship.  
  
Ma'Heth led the way as the turbolift halted, straight into Shuttle Bay 1. All was quiet, and no one present with exception of the arriving pair and Envoy Kelak herself. Starvek did all he could not to drop his jaw on the ground. Kelak was a towering amazon of nearly seven feet, and strikingly Romulan, in full gear.  
  
"The Tal Shi'ar honor you with this request and trust that my journey be safe," the woman's contralto voice filled the bay.  
  
The Klingon woman nodded reverently in a way that shocked the lieutenant. "I am First Officer Ma'Heth, but please, call me 'Rin. Please excuse the stupidity of Lieutenant Starvek, in all his glory."  
  
Kelak tightened her face in a rather primitive, snaky smile. "A pleasure, Mr. Starvek. Now, my quarters?" 


End file.
